


Heroes Dreams

by ElnaK



Series: Books of Sacrifices [17]
Category: Deja Vu (2006), Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: (well... kind of), Carroll Oerstadt is John Reese, Crossover, Gen, Missions, Pre-Series, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 11:57:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11252685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElnaK/pseuds/ElnaK
Summary: 2006, USA. John Reese just came back from his latest mission, and Kara and Mark won't leave him alone with that recording of the interrogation with the ATF agent. Apparently John makes a more than decent terrorist. Thanks so much for the compliment.Or, Carroll Oerstadt is yet another of the identities taken on by John Reese during his time for the CIA ( see movie Deja Vu, without the whole time travel thing )





	Heroes Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> By the way, I'm complaining about "Carroll Oerstadt". It's a shitty name, even more so when you have to write it several times. And "Minuti" should definitely have two "t".

When John got back to his team, he was unfortunate enough to be greeted by his own voice – which didn't really sound like him, at the moment – saying things he never thought, things no one should say out loud... as well as things he had thought at the moment, things he still thought. Lies, and truth at the same time.

_"He... I was about to burn him and he was waking up, you know? I mean, I'm not cruel."_

Lie. Truth. Truth.

John closed the door behind him. Mark looked up from the video recording of “Carroll Oerstadt”'s interrogation by ATF Agent Doug Carlin, and smirked at him. Basically saying “See, Reese, I knew you could do it.” Damn pleased with himself.

John wasn't pleased with himself, him.

“Stop watching that.”

Kara looked up too, and smirked just as much as Mark had.

“Oh come on, John, we're just appreciating your performance undercover. I mean, did you hear yourself speaking? You make a particularly convincing terrorist. Carlin was clearly persuaded you were a psychopath, and I must say, if I didn't know you beforehand, I'd think just as much.”

Then she fast-fowarded to the part of the video she felt illustrated her words the best.

_"I told you earlier I have a destiny, a purpose. Stan reasons like men, but God thinks of eternity. Well, I prostrate myself before a world that's going to hell in a handbag, because in all eternity, I am here and I will be remembered. That's destiny. A bomb has a destiny, a predetermined fate set by the hand of its creator. And anyone who tries to alter that destiny will be destroyed. Anyone who tried to stop it from happening will cause it to happen. And that's what you don't understand. We're not here to coexist. I'm here to win."_

John scowled slightly, but made sure it seemed as if he was merely irritated by the “compliment”, rather than with anything else.

Mark and Kara weren't fooled, though.

“No point complimenting John for now, Kara. It's obvious he isn't yet completely on board. It's been, what, less than a year that he's with the CIA? And it's only his third mission with us, as a SAD-SOG agent. He still has illusions. Heroes dreams.”

The first mission had been in Hungary, and the first thing he had been asked to do was to take care of the corpses of two CIA agents, just like them, who had apparently been paid to let a terrorist escape. No fingertips, no teeth. Nothing to identify the traitors.

The second mission was a story he'd rather not talk about.

The third mission, including Carroll Oestardt, had started two months ago. Kara, Mark and him had been tasked with taking care of a militia leader who had started to dream big... Just big enough that someone higher up had decided it was time to do away with him. Kara had killed the man, but it hadn't ended here. Just to be sure, they had taken a look at the others members of the militia while observing the leader, and somehow, it had led them to Caroll Oestardt and his terrorist attempt, even if the man wasn't part of the militia per se.

Kara had been amused to see that John and Oestardt were similarly built, and looked somewhat alike – not really, it wasn't as if people who knew them could get confused, but the overall descriptions of their physical features did fit.

John hadn't particularly appreciated the comparison.

They had tipped off the ATF, but something had gone wrong. Agent Lawrence Minuti had gone alone to check out the potential terrorist, instead of taking his partner with him, and had gotten himself shot.

But he hadn't been dead yet.

John had followed Oerstadt to his bait camp / hideout, and seeing the mad man start to drench the agonizing agent in fuel oil, he had killed him. A single bullet to the head.

Oerstadt had fallen to the ground, as dead as possible, and John had rushed to Lawrence Minuti's side, just as Kara's and Mark's car arrived on the property. Kara had helped him to keep the ATF agent alive, while Mark reported to their boss, asking what they were supposed to do now.

John had thought that was it, that there wasn't anything else to do except call the cops and drop the wounded agent at a hospital, before moving onto another mission.

It hadn't been the case.

Mark had hung up, a thoughtful look on his face, had stared at Oerstadt's corpse for a moment, and had joined them in the cabin where they had carried Lawrence Minuti. There he had looked at the bomb-in-the-making that Oerstadt had almost finished, and finally back at John.

John had had a feeling he wasn't going to like it.

He hadn't been wrong.

The CIA wanted someone dead – what else is new? – in the federal jail of Florence, Colo, supermax section. Getting someone in there was a hassle, apparently, but Carroll Oestardt... Well, a terrorist who tried to bomb a ferry, with possibly a few hundreds of victims? Sure to end up there.

Of course, there had been the small issue that Oerstardt was dead, thanks to John – John wasn't sorry. Except John looked somewhat like Oerstadt, and it wouldn't be particularly difficult to mess with the man's papers and digital files, to get the “right” picture on it. A picture of John's face, say.

The plan wasn't overly complicated. The idea was to go on with Oestardt's plan, only making sure that the bomb wouldn't actually explode, since, you know, that would kill more than a bunch of people. Steal a car, tie up the owner so that she couldn't report it until it was too late – Claire Kuchever, the unlucky girl, would have a few bruises for a time, but nothing life-threatening, or else John wouldn't have continued, and Kara knew that – and get it on the ferry with the bomb inside. Then, get John arrested, sent to Florence, Colorado, kill the target, and “Carroll Oerstadt” would disappear in the system.

John had argued that to make it believable, they'd have to make the bomb perfectly, only without him starting the timer, because he'd be arrested before that. That it was dangerous, since, you know, something could happen and make the exploding device, well, explode, even without the timer.

Kara hadn't said anything, but had squinted at Mark.

Their handler had shrugged, and smirked at John that he trusted him for that not to happen.

Fortunately, things had gone according to plan, and no one else had died during the mission – except Mr Supermax, but well, he had been a target, not collateral damage. John had played “Carroll Oerstadt” perfectly and gotten himself a life sentence, Kara had driven Lawrence Minuti to a hospital without giving a name then had gone to knock out Claire Kuchever, and Mark had tipped off Minuti's partner, Doug Carlin.

The ATF, the FBI and about everyone else thought they had been lucky the fuel oil bomb hadn't been activated yet when they had found it, because it was very well made. They had been, so to say, tipped off just in time.

Claire Kuchever had been found, alive and mostly well, a few hours later. When Doug Carlin had interrogated John, sorry, “Carroll Oerstadt”, they still thought Minuti was dead. They had seen the blood and the fuel oil at the cabin. John hadn't told them otherwise. Minuti woke up six days later at the hospital, and called his partner, but it didn't matter at this point. John had already been sent to supermax.

If he hadn't felt well using an innocent woman, knowing that Kara would probably do whatever was necessary to make it look real enough without actually killing her, John hadn't felt particularly concerned with breaking Mr Supermax's neck. After all, the man was a killer. Just like him.

More than just like him, apparently. A former CIA agent who had defected for a more lucrative job. A traitor – John wasn't one, of course, but it meant Mr Supermax could have been a colleague, had he not made that choice.

The target was dead now, and John was John Reese again, back with his team.

If they could only stop watching that recording.

Mark was wrong, though. John hadn't had heroes dreams in a long time. Truth be told, he had belonged to the darker side of necessity for years already. Undercover ops, getting rid of the worst people... Accidentally getting sucked into events that could only end badly, too. He knew all that.

Perhaps better than Mark Snow did.

John had been honest with ATF Agent Doug Carlin on one point at least: he had been sitting in that interrogation room for a reason. Perhaps not destiny, but a purpose, yes. A mission.

 


End file.
